


put that thing back where it came from or so help me

by anyadisee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Living Together, M/M, YES THIS FIC CONTAINS SPIDERS PLS IF SPIDERS MAKE YOU UNEASY TURN AWAY NOW, YOUR COMFORT IS MOST IMPORTANT thank you, and dealing with spiders, but it's silly and lighthearted for the most part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8053858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyadisee/pseuds/anyadisee
Summary: But one too many horrid articles he had encountered in middle school, all of which were courtesy of one Oikawa Tooru and his personal vendetta against spiders, crushed all of that childhood wonder and replaced memories of sneaking up on webs in hopes of finding one or two of the tiny creatures with a mantra that spiders are, indeed, the work of the devil.This is further proven when, the following morning, Hajime turns their table over in the backyard of their apartment building and starts vacuuming out the webs, doing his best to ignore the small black shapes scampering across the wood. He’s somewhat convinced they’re out to get his soul.Also, he’s definitely making Tooru do this next time, because he’s certain there’ll be a next time. [in which iwaizumi and oikawa move in together and deal with the spiders.]





	put that thing back where it came from or so help me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jascak9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jascak9/gifts).



> this fic is the product of a conversation i had with [kazumagami](http://kazumagami.tumblr.com/) on twitter about our own personal adventures involving spiders. i... don't know what exactly happened here but i had?? lots of fun writing this?? AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT (and thank you for suggesting the title omg)
> 
> also as a general note to everyone: IF YOU DON'T LIKE THE IDEA OF READING ABOUT SPIDERS IN DETAIL-ISH i really suggest you pass on this one omg. lastly, no spiders were actually harmed in the making of this fic.

Hajime can’t say that moving in with Tooru came with any particular major adjustment.

Practically his entire life, he’s been seeing Tooru every single day, anyway – from brief glances out of his childhood bedroom’s window down the neighbor’s spacious backyard where a kid in tacky alien cartoon shirts tossed a ball around, to early evenings spent holding onto each other’s hands in the silence of their walks home from practice, Tooru has been a constant. Even after the brief separation that came with university, there had been daily phone calls, constant streams of text messages, and video chats on weekends where one of them couldn’t afford the three-hour trip due to academics- and club-induced lethargy.

So it only makes sense, really, for Hajime to eventually end up climbing the same steps as Tooru after a long day at work (because the apartment building may be fancy enough to fit Tooru’s somewhat ridiculous standards at a reasonable price, but the elevator doors are always plastered with a cheerful-looking sign stating that it is, once again, under construction). It only makes sense for him to push open the same door as Tooru without having to fit keys into the lock (because Tooru never locks up no matter how many times Hajime has sat him down for safety lectures on their distasteful, secondhand leather sofa that Tooru had insisted on getting). And it only makes sense for him to fall into the same bed as Tooru and wake up next to Tooru, holding Tooru, breathing in Tooru (because the best part about this arrangement, Hajime thinks, is that they don’t have to clamber out of windows and jump over roofs to keep each other company anymore – now, all it takes is a single soft call, and only if the other isn’t already there).

It’s not a new routine that demands time for him to absorb. He commits himself to it fully from the get-go, right from the moment Tooru pushed their door open with a flourish and heavily set their box full of belongings, only the first of many, onto the dusty tabletop of their new dining room-slash-kitchen. Like a spike that he sends slamming down the other side of the court from one of Tooru’s perfect sets, Hajime adapts, ingrains, and flows seamlessly into a life with him.

It’s nothing new, really.

 _Except_ for one thing, that is. The spiders are definitely new.

“ _IWA-CHAN!_ ”

The half-shriek comes from the bedroom this time, and Hajime sighs as he hears the thud of something heavy colliding with what sounds to be their headboard. He imagines the thick wood trembling almost violently beneath the force of whatever it was that had been thrown against it, made shaky with months of having, ahem, solid objects shoved repeatedly against it in various situations which, again ahem, Hajime won’t go into much detail of.

And then he realizes. The _headboard_.

He jumps to his feet, Volleyball Monthly forgotten on their sofa, and rushes into the bedroom. “It’s on our _bed?!”_

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru whines upon seeing him, holding a rolled-up old issue of a gardening magazine in one hand and a flower vase in the other, standing about half a meter away from the foot of their bed. “It’s on our _pillow_.”

With much dread, Hajime turns his head slowly to bravely (foolishly) see for himself.

And there indeed, a stark contrast to the white of their pillows, is a monster about the size of the pebbles he used to throw into the river as a kid, its multiple legs outstretched leisurely as though taking a nap. Immediately, Hajime decides that the pillow has to _go_ , and then he grabs the vase from Tooru and sucks in a long, deep breath.

 

 

“Iwa-chan, did you know that you can’t just squash spiders?” Tooru says one night during dinner, sitting cross-legged on their kitchen worktop while balancing a bowl of rice on his right thigh and his laptop on the other.

Hajime pauses in his attempts to hold both his bowls of rice _and_ soup, all while simultaneously trying to get the food into his mouth while _standing_ , to quirk an eyebrow at Tooru. There’s a table separating the two of them, chairs haphazardly shoved away from it, but Hajime can still perfectly see the creases in the hem of Tooru’s shirt where he had anxiously tugged on it just earlier, the way the material fits loosely around the shoulders because the shirt is actually Hajime’s, and the way his reading glasses are slipping down the bridge of his nose as he leans his face closer to the monitor of his laptop.

“Like, you know how some spiders have these egg sacs? And the amount of tiny spiders they carry can range from ten to _thousands,_ so if you crush them—”

“Enough,” Hajime says, losing his appetite more and more the longer he listens to Tooru. “I get the idea.”

They fall silent for a moment, both of them staring at the table. The table whose underside is full of webs. Webs which they just discovered now, because Tooru had lifted his legs to cross them in the middle of dinner and felt the deceptively soft brush of them against his knee.

And where there’s a web, there’s bound to be the tiny creature that spun it.

“Why did we never think to clean underneath the table?” Tooru laments, slamming his laptop shut.

Hajime doesn’t bring up the fact that they rarely clean in the first place. “What do we do with it now?”

Tooru stares at said piece of furniture with an intensity he only ever gets when calculating a serve or when making a split-second decision on who to send his toss to while in the middle of an exhilarating rally. Hajime waits, patient, leaning against the wall of their kitchen and watching Tooru think.

Then Tooru says, “Maybe we should burn it.”

Hajime makes a mental note to _instead_ take the table outside first thing tomorrow morning so he can vacuum the webs out. That seems more practical, plus he really doesn’t want to buy another dining table.

 

 

As a child, Hajime had been really fond of catching any and every kind of bug he can get his tiny, mud-streaked hands on. He was adventurous that way, filled with never-ending curiosity for all things moving that most children seemed to possess. But one too many horrid articles he had encountered in middle school, all of which were courtesy of one Oikawa Tooru and his personal vendetta against spiders, crushed all of that childhood wonder and replaced memories of sneaking up on webs in hopes of finding one or two of the tiny creatures with a mantra that spiders are, indeed, the work of the devil.

This is further proven when, the following morning, Hajime turns their table over in the backyard of their apartment building and starts vacuuming out the webs, doing his best to ignore the small black shapes scampering across the wood. He’s somewhat convinced they’re out to get his soul.

Also, he’s definitely making Tooru do this next time, because he’s certain there’ll be a next time.

 

 

“What I don’t understand,” Tooru begins, head pillowed on Hajime’s lap with his feet dangling over the arm of the sofa, “is why we’re running into this problem _now._ ”

“What do you mean?” Hajime asks. His fingers are busy tying strands of Tooru’s hair into tiny knots, a habit he’s developed since Tooru refused to get his hair cut two months ago. Hajime still suspects it’s for this exact reason.

“Well.” Tooru blinks up at him, and Hajime instinctively brushes Tooru’s fringe out of his eyes. “Did you ever have to get rid of spiders when you were a kid?”

“No,” Hajime says, tapping the side of Tooru’s head lightly. Tooru turns his face and Hajime gets started on another small knot. “Usually I just kept them in jars.”

Tooru’s face twists in displeasure, visible even from the side. “I still can’t believe you ever thought collecting spiders was fun. Did you not read that one article I showed you about this guy who—”

“Yes,” Hajime interrupts, unwilling to be reminded in vivid detail the contents of all the articles Tooru has ever shown him. It doesn’t even matter _which_ article Tooru is talking about, exactly – they had all been nightmare-inducing. “They were the reason I saw spiders in a new light.”

Tooru hums, appeased. “Still, we didn’t really have to kill any spiders when we were little, right?”

“That’s because our moms cleaned the house and chased them all away,” Hajime explains.

“The true heroes.” Tooru sighs, turning his face further until his cheek is smushed into Hajime’s thigh. “We should really invite them over soon. Maybe they have some spider-killing tips.”

“Maybe by the end of the month?” Hajime suggests. He’s run out of hairties now, so he just settles with running his fingers through the strands of Tooru’s hair that remain untied. He feels more than hears the happy little sigh that Tooru lets out at having his scalp rubbed, a warm rush of breath brushing over Hajime’s skin. “Hey, turn your head at a more comfortable angle if you’re going to sleep.”

“I’m not going to sleep,” Tooru says, even as he dutifully turns his head so that he’s facing the ceiling again. His eyes are already half-lidded, lips stretched into a slow and lazy smile. “But maybe a quick nap won’t hurt.”

“Those are the same things,” Hajime says, his own lips quirking up fondly.

“No,” Tooru says, just to be stubborn. “Naps are shorter. Or something.” He yawns. “Besides, it’s your fault I’m sleepy. You kept playing with my hair.”

Hajime tugs lightly on Tooru’s hair, before rubbing at his scalp soothingly once more. “You love it.”

“Hmm.” Tooru lets his eyes fall shut completely, smile content. “I do.”

Hajime starts humming a little tune he’s heard Tooru sing before underneath his breath, awkwardly trying to get the notes right the first time. Tooru joins him after a while, and they fill the silence of the room with a haphazard kind of melody that somehow works. Singing isn’t really Hajime’s forte – the few times he went to karaoke have all been Seijoh reunions, and most of the time he simply sat back and watched his friends try to outscore each other with ridiculous song choices (one particular incident that Hajime will never, _ever_ forget was when Kyoutani and Hanamaki teamed up and absolutely _killed it_ at a duet from that school idol game they like so much, actually managing to bring Tooru to tears who had a 97 score). But everything with Tooru is just easy, singing included. It’s comfortable.

The humming fades after a while, and then it’s just them and their breathing once more. Tooru opens his eyes and smiles up at Hajime. Hajime smiles back, just a slight upward tilt of the lips. He loves moments like this the most.

So of course Tooru just has to say, “You know, I don’t think I ever had to kill a spider when I was dorming in university, either.”

Hajime groans and pushes Tooru off his lap, Tooru’s laughter ringing merrily in the room followed almost immediately by Hajime’s snort.

 

 

Hajime has to admit, though, that as far as their spider-related adventures have gone, this is perhaps the most intense one so far.

He woke up fifteen minutes ago to the sound of Tooru screaming bloody murder from their shower, because _of course_ they had to run into them in the shower eventually. Of course. The damn shower, number one place susceptible to spider invasions. Hajime is actually surprised it hasn’t happened sooner, and after scrambling out of their (new) blankets and (new) pillows and (also new) bedsheets that they somehow always manage to pull from the corners of their mattress in their sleep, he ran towards the bathroom and threw the door open just as Tooru was making a hasty exit.

Now sporting a red sore spot in the middle of his face, Tooru stands in solidarity behind Hajime with nothing but a towel around his waist. Hajime tries not to let this fact distract him as he faces the spider leisurely making its way up the handle of their showerhead.

“Squash it!” Tooru hisses.

“I thought you said that would be a bad idea,” Hajime hisses back, taking an involuntary step backwards when the spider pauses in its ascent. For one brief and terrifying moment, Hajime wonders whether this is one of those spiders that _jump_.

“What else are we supposed to do, then?” Tooru asks.

Hajime eyes the small rectangle of a glass window beside their sink mirror and gets an idea. “Get it outside.”

“ _How?_ ”

Hajime gulps, lowering his weapon – Tooru’s shampoo bottle – and taking a tentative step forward. He’s touched spiders before, he tells himself, years and years and years ago when he was still little and unaware of the horrible articles Tooru would shove in his face in the future. It shouldn’t be too hard to hold one now, just for a quick moment, and get it outside, right? Right.

“Iwa-chan, what are you doing?” Tooru asks in a horrified whisper. “ _Hajime_.”

“Let me just—” Hajime doesn’t finish, now lifting his hand slowly towards the showerhead. The spider pauses once more in its climb and seems to regard Hajime’s nearing fingers curiously. It’s smaller than the ones they have encountered so far, thinner as well, which will make it a lot more difficult to locate if it ever decided to play a game of hide-and-seek with Hajime. Or worse, _on_ Hajime.

The spider slowly lifts one of its legs, and Hajime retreats.

“A valiant effort, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, patting him on the back. “It’s still there, though.”

Hajime lets out a huff and looks around him in search of anything he can potentially use to lure the spider out. He finds the hairbrush Tooru uses in the mornings lying on the sink and, being struck with an idea, picks it up and approaches the spider once more.

Tooru makes an indignant noise. “What are you going to do with that?”

Hajime doesn’t answer, instead extending the handle towards the spider, careful not to poke it too hard lest it loses its grip on the showerhead and falls onto the floor. Again, he prays that it’s not one of those jumping spiders. When the spider only moves away from the brush handle and continues climbing up the showerhead, Hajime addresses Tooru with, “Can you get me a small scrap of paper? Or anything similar?”

He hears footsteps running out of the bathroom. Hajime makes sure to keep an eye on the spider so that it doesn’t go anywhere, and moments later Tooru returns and hands him a page torn off from a sticky note pad. Hajime murmurs a quiet thanks and steps closer to the showerhead.

Lifting the note just below the spider in order to make sure it won’t fall on the floor where it’ll be harder to locate, Hajime nudges the small thing onto its surface with the brush handle. The spider seems to reluctantly lift its legs at the force Hajime is now using, and Hajime watches with his breath trapped somewhere in his throat as the spider finally – _finally_ – slips from the showerhead, the sticky note making sure to catch it.

 Behind him, Tooru lets out a long breath.

“Open the window,” he says – _whispers_. For some reason, it feels like any noise louder than that would cause something to go horribly, horribly wrong. The spider is now moving across the paper at a curious kind of pace, and it’s _so close_ to his thumb. “ _Hurry._ ”

Tooru (still only clad in a towel, Hajime’s brain supplies unhelpfully) rushes to the window and opens it, quickly backing away as Hajime approaches with the spider. Careful not to let the spider slip from the paper, he lifts it up to the window and then, with a nearly frantic twitch of the wrist, he drops the sticky note with the spider on it out of the window.

They stand there in silence for a moment.

And then Tooru jumps onto Hajime, screaming in victorious glee.

 

 

“You know,” Tooru says later, after successfully showering and eating the breakfast Hajime made for them, “I did a bit of research because this spider problem is really starting to concern me, and according to the lovely couple next door, the guy who previously lived here apparently kept them as pets. Like, he had tanks for them and everything.”

“That’s terrifying,” Hajime says. Tooru curls up closer to his side, sheets now neatly pulled and tucked back into their corners. “Did he bring everything with him when he left?”

“He did,” Tooru says, “but who knows? Maybe some of the ones that hatched from eggs escaped, which would explain our current situation.”

“Again, that’s terrifying.”

Tooru hums his agreement. Hajime tightens the arm he has wrapped around Tooru’s waist, just because. “I thought about moving out,” Tooru says. “But it’s so much work, you know? Just putting everything back in their boxes would take _ages_.”

“So you’re fine living with the spiders?” Hajime asks.

“I’m fine living with the spiders,” Tooru answers. “And besides, they’re bringing us closer, I think. What did they say about how surviving life-threatening situations strengthens the bond between people?”

“I think it’s overdramatic to call it a life-threatening situation.”

“That one guy in the article would disagree—”

“Okay, let’s just,” Hajime interrupts, turning over onto his side so that he’s facing Tooru properly, “let’s not talk about the spiders anymore.” Then he adds, because Tooru looks like he’s going to do the exact opposite of what he asked, “Please.”

Tooru closes his mouth. Smiles. “Okay then. How about we nap?”

Hajime rolls his eyes. “We just woke up two hours ago.”

“Iwa-chaaan.” Tooru pouts, moving even closer and throwing a leg over Hajime. “Nap with me! Then let’s make out when we wake up, bad breath and all. It’ll be another thing that’ll strengthen our bond!”

Hajime sighs, but he knows there’s a smile on his face, one that he can never wipe away when faced with Oikawa Tooru. God, he loves him so much. “Fine.”

He guesses he can live with the spiders as well, or anywhere else for that matter, so long as Tooru is right there with him.

**Author's Note:**

> like iwachan, i, too, once thought catching spiders was fun. like, kid me actually held them. in her _hand_. also the battle in the shower scene actually happened to me except i had to use a) a dipper handle, b) an empty shampoo sachet, and c) a doorknob.
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://aobajhousai.tumblr.com/) and on [twitter](https://twitter.com/anyadisee)!!


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